Be grateful, not gratuitous!

Ratna Raman

THE root word ‘gratus’ (Latin) from which we get grateful has significant nuances in English. ‘Grate’ is used both as noun and verb. ‘Grates’ (n) are metal bars holding fuel in fireplaces, stoves, or furnaces. ‘Grating’ (n) is an iron-meshed surface that safeguards. It can also be an irritating jarring noise.

‘Grating’ (v) fresh vegetables for a salad is when carrot or radish are shredded against a ‘grater’ (sharp surface with holes) into convenient slivers. This is very different from ‘grating’ on someone’s nerves which can truncate associations.

An ‘ingrate’ does not possess the quality of ‘gratitude’ (adj), a feeling of thankfulness reflecting a happy temperament. Everyone has a lot to be grateful for. Counting one’s blessings is usually a sign of gratefulness.

Political and social climbers ‘ingratiate’ (curry favour) themselves with men and women in positions of power. Often people can display overwhelming familiarity or drop names and connections in order to ingratiate themselves.

‘Graceful’ deals with external detail, suggesting poised and elegant body movements exhibited by dancers, swans, gazelles and people.

‘Gracious’ expresses surprise, as in; “Goodness gracious! What is the world coming too?” Being large-hearted and rising above trying situations is a sign of ‘graciousness’.

‘Gratuity’ is money paid to employees at the time of retirement, as token recognition (gratitude) for services rendered, enabling adequate economic freedom.

This brings us to ‘gratuitous’ (Latin; 17century) to bestow spontaneously; without payment. ‘Gratis’ (Latin, free) is a transaction that does not involve payment. So, in law, ‘gratuitous’ implies service rendered free of charge. In life, ‘gratuitous behaviour’ is usually uncalled for. 

Each variation of the root verb ‘gratus’ emerges from within humans as possibilities; negotiating positive values (gracious) or their absence (ingrate). 

There is a large mulberry tree in front of my house. People walk past it, put up an arm, sometimes, both. One hand clutches an overhanging stem while the other rips out a leaf or two. The leaves plucked in this manner are crushed and tossed or ripped further into little bits and scattered.

This gets worse in fruiting season, because the tiny mulberries make for ‘easy pickings’ (quick gains). The tree is subject to violent tugging, shaking and breaking in order to dislodge the fruit — an instance of ‘gratuitous aggression’, which has no plausible justification.

Gratuitous violence usually comes from a space of entitlement that is accompanied by a disregard for pretty much everything else. How else do we explain ploughing a truck through a beach full of people, opening fire upon unwary civilians, or shooting pellets in order to blind and maim?

Countless acts of violence shriek to us from different parts of the world, and from within households. 

Each time humans lose sight of the endless gifts that life bestows, ‘gratuitousness’ comes into play. When humans stop expressing gratitude for their connection to life and fellow humans, choosing to be consumed by a sense of entitlement, they fine-tune themselves to inflict ‘gratuitous’ cruelty. The undercurrents sustain and strengthen terrorism; bludgeon and bloody the world and blight all sanctity of life.